


The Eye of the Beholder

by lurking_in_the_background



Series: Cautionary Tales from the Shoppe of Wonders [1]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Cryptic Warnings, Emotional Hurt, F/M, Mystical shop that kind of appears wherever, Other, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Suicide, be careful what you freaking wish for, faeries don’t care, humans wander into a faerie shop, sometimes humans are stupid
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-30
Updated: 2019-12-02
Packaged: 2021-02-25 23:02:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,416
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21613510
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lurking_in_the_background/pseuds/lurking_in_the_background
Summary: Angela Bennet feels like life only favors the beautiful and lovely people in the world, and leaves average people like her by the wayside. After the latest in a series of awful dates, Angela is ready to give up. But Ms. Bennet is about to learn that beauty is in the eye of the beholder, and in putting on a mask to be pleasing to others, we eventually lose sight of ourselves.The rules of the game may not be fair, but they are straightforward: you get what you pay for, and there are no returns. You must follow the rules.In the Shoppe of Wonders, you play by the rules.....Or you end up a cautionary tale.
Series: Cautionary Tales from the Shoppe of Wonders [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1557727
Comments: 4
Kudos: 3





	1. Enter, Angela Bennet

Angela Bennet groaned, glaring at the clouds above her, which had decided now, when she was feeling lonely, dejected, and undesirable, coming home from a horrible date where her date had been more interested in her waitress’s double-D’s than her, and then left her for said waitress to walk home alone, was the perfect time to start raining.

And not sprinkling, either.   
  
The sky had opened up.

And Angela, not expecting rain, didn’t have an umbrella. Or a coat. That had been left in her date’s car.   
  


So, Angela did what any drenched, depressed, and disheartened female would do in such a situation: she screamed her displeasure at the sky.

Then, she ducked into a small shop on the corner to wait out the storm.

Upon entering, she was amazed: the shop was beautiful, in a fairytale kind of way. It was all warm browns, oranges, golds, and the occasional red or black. Huge dark oak bookshelves lined the one side of the store, crammed with all manner of things, from jars of odd things and knick-knacks to books and scrolls. The other side was filled with gorgeous cloaks (she wondered at that; who wears cloaks anymore?) and armor (that too, where was she, a medieval haute couture shop?) on mannequins, and jewelry on black busts. A black wrought iron spiral staircase descended into the floor, a little ways into the side with the armor.

Directly in the middle, dead across from her was a glass counter, with all manner of shining things under it. An old-fashioned brass cash register sat on the far right side, on its own little wooden spot. Walking forward, she noticed a tiny bell, like the ones she’d seen in hotels, next to the register.

A little sign leaning on it said, in loopy, fancy cursive she’d only seen on wedding invitations, “Please ring for assistance. Thank you~!”

Not knowing what else to do, Angela rang the bell.

”Be right with you!” came the immediate answer, from the staircase’s depths. She was startled by the reply, because how could anybody hear the soft ring of the bell from all the way down there?!

Barely a minute later, two figures emerged from the staircase: one was small and slight, probably barely coming to her shoulder, with a full head of loose white curls that brushed his jaw, and, most disconcertingly, a face as smooth as a young man’s. Angela had thought he was an old man. He wore a loose sweater over blue jeans, and a worn coat that was obviously too big for him; it was rolled up twice on his wrists, and almost trailed the floor.

The second figure was tall and skinny, like a willow tree, with deep brown skin and long, thin green-blue hair; Angela was instantly jealous-the woman had the bearing and looks of a catwalk model, not to mention the stunning bohemian style dress she wore, which was fitted at the top, but loose around her ankles.

The small man darted behind the cash register and held up a disgusting green colored cream in a glass jar. “This ought to take care of those nasty termites, Ms. Willow,” he said, and Angela detected a slight lilt to his voice; an accent, thought she couldn’t quite place it. “Anything else for you?” The woman shook her head mutely. “Well, alright then.” The man held out his hand expectantly. “I’ll be taking my due, then.”

To Angela’s immense shock, the woman, instead of producing a wallet and paying with a card, or cash, produced a string of pearls from her bodice. She wordlessly handed it over. The little man took it, smiling broadly. “Thank you kindly, Ms. Willow.” The woman, Willow, nodded, and left.

The small man turned to her, still smiling. Angela noticed his eyes were the same color as a Coke bottle. “Hello, there. I’m Kryos. Welcome to the Shoppe of Wonders, where we cater to every wish you could have.” His green eyes glittered, and that smile turned dangerous. “For the right price, of course.” He waved a hand about. “Feel free to look about; I’ll be waiting right here for you, when you’re ready to check out.”

Nodding, Angela drifted off to the jewelry on the busts. Everything sparkled and glittered, and was beautiful to look at. “Those were all made right here,” Kryos called to her lazily, as if commenting on the weather. “Everything we sell is hand-made, either here or from an outside source.”

Glancing up from a set of gold earrings made to look like twin snakes biting the earlobes, she met his gaze, astonished. “You mean these were made by _**hand**_?” she gasped, reaching out to finger one of the snakes.

”Yes, and I wouldn’t touch that if I were you.” Angela glared at him, brow furrowed. “Why?” she demanded.

He met her glare calmly and amusedly. “Because. The twin snakes of Envy are venomous. Great for killing rivals, but not so good for personal beautification.” Angela laughed, short and disbelieving, but she didn’t touch the snakes.

She glanced around the beautiful pieces, taking in all the glitz and glamor, until her eyes landed on a previously overlooked necklace. It wasn’t bright, or flashy. All in all, it was rather plain.

It was a cat’s eye stone, beautifully polished and inlaid in a simple gold setting, on a simple leather strip. It was so average and simple looking it had been completely overlooked on her previous examination. Angela knew how it probably felt.

Angela herself was often overlooked by everyone, because of how average she looked: her hair was that odd shade of brown that was slightly in between light brown and dark brown, and not straight, or curly, or even wavy; it was a perpetual tangle. Her eyes were an unremarkable dull grey, like rain clouds. She had pasty skin dotted with freckles. She was barely five foot seven, and was a B cup at best. Everyone overlooked her, constantly. Just like this little thing. Angela picked it up and slid it off the bust.

Noticing her interest, Kryos called out, “The Eye of the Beholder.” When Angela turned to him, he elaborated.

”That necklace is the Eye of the Beholder. It allows you to change your appearance to whatever suits the person who’s looking at you, so you’ll always be the most beautiful person they see.”

Angela raised an eyebrow. “You’re joking, right?” She giggled. “A magic necklace?” But she had to admit, being beautiful _did_ sound nice. Maybe people would notice her, finally...

She shook her head. ‘ _No,_ ’ she thought, ‘ _You’re too smart to fall for that_.’ And yet... 

Before she could think better of it, she stalked up to the cash register and dropped the necklace on the counter, which she now saw was full of knives and swords. “How much?”

Kryos’s lips curled up in a sarcastic smile. “What are you willing to give to be beautiful?” Without hesitation, Angela said, “Anything.” Kryos’s smile widened, and she immediately regretted her choice of words. “Then...” Kryos’s eyes appraised her critically. “That ring on your necklace.”

Glancing down at the necklace, she hesitated. “Isn’t there anything else?” Angela was loath to give up her mother’s wedding ring. Her mother was the only one Angela truly believed thought she was beautiful, no matter what. The ring was all she had left; cancer had claimed her mother not five years ago.

Kryos cocked an eyebrow. “You said _anything_ ,” he reminded her. “And I want that.” He sighed sadly. “But I guess you don’t really _want_ to be beautiful, then...” He began pulling the necklace towards him. Gritting her teeth, Angela unclasped the chain holding the ring around her neck. Glaring, she gave it to Kryos, who slid her the necklace and took the ring in one smooth motion.

”I declare the deal sealed,” Kryos told her, smiling. He punched a few buttons on the register and then dropped the ring into the drawer that popped out. “Remember, Ms. Bennet. No returns, no refunds, and _you got what you paid for_.” Angela nodded, mouth dry. “Good! Now, have a splendid night, Ms. Bennet.” And with that, Angela found herself outside the Shoppe of Wonders, necklace clutched to her chest. It had stopped raining, at least, she thought, as she started home.

Then, a chilling thought occurred to her: she hadn’t given Kryos her name.


	2. You get what you pay for

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Eye of the Beholder is like a mask. It obscures you from the view of many, but it obscures you from you too.

Upon returning to her apartment, Angela was tired as no human had any right to be. She was completely exhausted. Glancing at the clock above the kitchenette, she groaned: it was 11:15 pm, which meant that she had only enough time to get a quick shower and maybe get a couple hours of sleep before she had to drag herself to work.

Stripping down, Angela hopped in the shower and quickly washed her hair, before pulling on an old shirt and face planting into her bed, not bothering to dry her hair.

*  
Angela’s alarm blared angrily at her the next morning, driving her from a pleasant dream about banana cream pie and fluffy mice. Heaving a sigh that was dangerously close to a groan, she rolled out of bed. She threw on her waitressing dress and grabbed her purse, and glancing back, her eyes fell on the Eye of the Beholder.

The necklace gleamed at her invitingly, as if begging her to take it. She hesitated a moment, before grabbing it and putting it on. The pendant rested securely in the hollow of her throat, and it was slightly warm on her skin. Angela fingered it, letting her finger feel the smooth surface of the stone.

Nodding to herself, Angela made her way to the fridge and pulled out a yogurt cup for breakfast. Closing the fridge, she caught sight of her reflection in the microwave window. Angela screamed, dropping the unopened yogurt cup on the floor. She ran into the bathroom, hoping that the microwave was just playing tricks on her sleep-deprived brain. Upon glancing in the mirror, she felt the same urge to scream building up, but this time in elation rather than fear:

Her hair was long and dark brown, like walnuts, and had an elegant wave to it. Her skin was no longer littered with freckles, and had a rosy sheen to it, like a model’s. Her eyes were a beautiful hazel brown, and seemed to shimmer in the light. She looked like a lady from a Pantene commercial. It delighted her, to say the least.

She breezed to the car, walking on clouds it felt like. People stopped to stare at her, and she couldn’t blame them. Angela was gorgeous.

Over the next few days at work, three of her coworkers asked her out, and Angela had the distinct pleasure of turning them all down. They hadn’t paid attention to her before; and they weren’t all that good looking anyways, in her humble opinion.

While she was working the floor, another six people asked her out, and she denied all of them. Until the seventh. The seventh was indeed her type, with thick blond hair and bright blue eyes, and a chiseled jaw. He was positively _handsome._ Him she deemed worthy of her beauty. She accepted.

*  
The date went perfectly. He drove her to the restaurant, took her coat, and paid for the meal. She found his name was Johnathan Matthews, his favorite color was blue, and he worked for the law firm down the road. He smiled at her as he was driving her home.

”This has been fun, Angela,” he told her, and Angela was inclined to agree. “You know,” he said, running a hand through her hair, “I’ve always had a thing for redheads...” Angela froze, her smile slipping a bit. “R-really?” Johnathan grinned. “Yeah, redheads have that mischievous look to them,” he explained, “like pixies or something.”

”What do I look like?” Angela startled herself, not just Jonathan, with the question. “What?” he asked, brow furrowed. Angela smiled as convincingly as she could. “I want to know what you see when you look at me,” she explained. She had to know.

Johnathan seemed appeased by this. “I see a beautiful picture of a woman with red hair, the most gorgeous grey eyes, and a few cute little freckles on the top of her nose.” He grinned. “You are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen.” Smiling, he pulled into her apartment complex. “Here we are.” He leaned over and pressed a kiss to her lips. “Let’s do this again, sometime.” He slid his number into her coat pocket, and Angela smiled weakly and got out of the car.

When she returned to her apartment, she realized that no one had seen her as _her_ , just their perfect idea of her. It was not a pleasant realization. Even worse, she realized, she didn’t remember what her own face looked like anymore.

Quickly, Angela scrolled through her phone for a picture of herself before the Eye of the Beholder. But all the pictures were of the same face she wore now. There were no remnants of her original face.

Angrily, she tugged at the necklace, trying to get it off her neck. It wouldn’t budge, like it had been fused to her neck. She was trapped with too many faces, and no one would ever know that it wasn’t really her. They would only ever see their ideal version of her.

She had to get it off her, and she knew only one person would know how: the man who had sold it to her, Kryos. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope this is the right amount of creepy and fantasy. Please tell me if it isn’t...


	3. No returns, no refunds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You were warned, Ms. Angela: no returns, no refunds. You got what you paid for.”
> 
> In which Angela discovers that the Fair Folk don’t play fair.

Angela drove to that little shop where she’d bought the necklace. She wore a hat to cover her hair, and sunglasses to hide her eyes, but she knew people would see her skin as a different color, if it so suited their desires. There was little she could do about that.

Upon finding the store, she parked, and burst into the shop, anger radiating from her every pore, startling a small red headed boy shelving some books. The poor thing squeaked in terror before toppling off the step stool he was balanced on, books falling with him. Under normal circumstances, she would have demanded to know if the little thing was okay, helped him up, and apologized for scaring him.

But these were not ordinary circumstances.

”Do you work here?!” She demanded, all but screaming at him. She saw tears pool in his eyes as he nodded vigorously, scrambling away from her. “Where’s Kryos?!”

The little red head simply started to cry, tiny, breathless sobs and whimpers tearing from his throat. “I d-don’t know!” His eyes were huge, and with a start she saw they were all _black_ ; there were no pupils, no whites. Just oily black.

She stared at the long red hair, braided back from his face, that writhed slightly, not in time with his sobs, and the pointed ears that swept away from his head, drooping with fear, like a kicked puppy. He wasn’t human, she realized.

The tears dripping from his eyes were crystal clear, though. They looked just like any human’s. “What the hell are you,” she gasped. _Those ears hadn’t been there before_ , she thought, _I would have noticed them._

”P-please d-don’t hurt m-me,” the thing whimpered, inching away from her, “I d-don’t know w-where he is!” It was the very picture of mindless terror, and Angela took a step closer. “Then you better find him,” she snarled, temporarily putting the creature’s non-humanness from her mind. “Because I’m not leaving until I find him!” At that, the little thing scrambled away, disappearing into the depths of the shop.

Angela tapped her foot impatiently, and for a while, the only sound in the shop was the sound of her foot clicking against the wood floor. She was beginning to think the red headed creature had run off and hidden instead of finding its manager.

 _What_ was _that thing,_ she wondered. It certainly wasn’t human. It looked a bit like an elf, only more terrifying. But elves were fairytales; little tiny things that fixed shoes or built toys, not that nightmare-inducing thing. Well, if she were honest, it hadn’t been all that scary. Those eyes had startled her, was all. The rest of the creature was actually...

...rather _adorable._

The sound of footsteps roused her from her thoughts. Glancing up, she saw Kryos, trailed by the red headed creature, who was actually _smaller_ than him, by a few scant inches. Kryos was furious; every line of him screamed rage.

”Angela Bennet,” he snarled, “how _**dare**_ you come back to my shop and _**terrorize**_ my employees?!” Angela found herself frozen in place. To her eyes, it seemed that Kryos’s eyes glowed a phosphorus green, and his pupils turned to slits.

” ** _WELL?!_** ” Angela flinched instinctively. “Sorry,” she whispered, terrified. His eyes stopped glowing, though his pupils remained slits, and he nodded, but the rest of him was angry. “What did you want, Ms. Angela, that was _so important_ that it warranted frightening poor Naritic out of his wits?”

Angela remembered then why she was there. Her anger returned in full force. “I want you to take this off me, and give me back my ring!” she snapped at him. Kryos leaned back on his heels, the picture of uncaring. He looked her dead in the eye and smiled, a brittle, scornful smile, before saying, calmly, “No.”

Angela stared. “What do you mean, ‘ _no_ ’?!” she screeched, gesticulating wildly. “This thing ruined my life! People don’t even see _me_ ; they see someone _they_ want me to be!” At his uncaring shrug, she screamed, “I don’t even know what I _look like_ anymore!”

Kryos simply shrugged again. “Well, beauty _is_ in the eye of the beholder, Ms. Angela,” he reminded her, his lips twisting into a sarcastic grin. “I thought you knew this.”

”Take. It. Back!” Angela demanded, tugging at the necklace to punctuate each word. Kryos simply laughed. “You were warned, Ms. Angela: no returns, no refunds. You got what you paid for.” His green eyes glittered delightedly. “It’s no fault of mine that you’re dissatisfied with what you wished for. After all, are you not the most beautiful woman in the world now?” His laughter increased when her face paled. “Next time you deal with the Fair Folk, Ms. Angela, I suggest that you be _very_ careful with what you wish for.”

And Angela saw, to her great dismay, that Kryos too had pointed ears. And even worse, a long, sinuous white- scaled tail peeked from under his coat, swishing slightly over the floor with a quiet skiss-skiss noise of hard material gliding over hard wood.

His laughter followed her out as she ran to her car, and drove off, that scornful laugh ringing in her ears.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is why I take my brother shopping with me. Otherwise I want all the things. And I’d end up like Angela at some point.
> 
> Sorry that this one is kinda short. >_< It’s the end, and it was wrapped up as neatly as possible. You don’t want this shut-in to ramble on, so. Thanks to all ye who deigned to read this. It makes me so happy! X)


	4. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What happened to Ms. Angela Bennet after her experience at the Shoppe of Wonders.

Epilogue:

Angela Bennet went one to marry Johnathan Matthews. He never learned the truth about her appearance, or the story surrounding her odd necklace, until they were 5 years married. Angela never left the house they lived in.

Johnathan only learned the truth after one of his coworkers commented on a photo of Angela he brought to work, saying she had ‘lovely black hair’.

Angela and Johnathan had 3 children: Kate, Johnathan Jr., and Crystal. They were the only ones who ever saw Angela as Angela, and not through an illusion.

The three Matthews children were told their mother’s story when Angela died at the age of forty-eight. She committed suicide. Kate was twenty-three, Johnathan Jr. was twenty, and Crystal was only seventeen.

Crystal discovered her mother’s body in the bathroom when she came home from school. Their father was at work, and the other two had moved out. Kate had a two year old infant. A notebook containing Angela’s story was found next to her body.

In her will, Angela dictated that the Eye of the Beholder be buried with her, so that no one else would ever be ensorcelled by the siren call of beauty.

At her funeral, a small man with white curls and glass green eyes, accompanied by a tall man with equally white hair that stuck up in all directions appeared and calmly took the Eye from Angela’s corpse. It was the only time the necklace had left her neck. To everyone present, it seemed like the small man’s eyes glowed as he removed the necklace that had refused to leave Angela’s neck. They left, and were never heard from again by the majority of the Matthews family.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys I swear this is the end. Thanks to all ye who read this all the way through. It pleases me to no end that someone-or a whole bunch of someones-are reading my stuff. Thanks again.

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry, this is my first time writing something.... I did my best, though, so I hope you enjoyed it! Thanks for reading the work of a lonely lurker, lurking in the background. <3


End file.
